


Black Coffee and Insomnia

by TheDevil_CaptainLiv



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11160414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDevil_CaptainLiv/pseuds/TheDevil_CaptainLiv





	Black Coffee and Insomnia

for hours and Hours, he actually dared to emerge.   
Harry furiously glanced at the display on the smartphone in his hand, where the news flow between Peter and him lit up. The artificially induced exhilaration, which the alcohol in his blood in combination with the dripping beat had triggered, had suddenly disappeared. The party around him was still in full swing: twitching bodies in the rhythm of the music, alcoholic and drug-induced laughter, flickering colourful lights in the darkened rooms. Everyone was obviously in the best of spirits and willing to enjoy this night to the fullest - only himself, the host, felt extremely disillusioned. His drinking friends, who were lurking next to him on one of the couches, and had organised another tablet of Tequila shots, looked Harry over the shoulder curiously. 

"Ohh, your lover is still comfortable here? Around Three o'clock at night? "   
Harry rose a little hesitantly as he shouted after him, "Literally the only person who dares to wait for Harry Osborn!" 

It was true. Still, his answer was an outstretched middle finger over his shoulder. 

Instead of making a way through the crowd towards the door, Harry fought his way to the stairs and went upstairs to his bedroom. He was fairly certain that Peter as so often would not be able to enter the house in a sensible way but instead would slip in through the window instead. Sometimes this was perhaps quite romantic, but that night Harry did not have enough patience for these childish. Accordingly, he was also irritated when he saw Peter sitting on the windowsill of his bedroom with an embarrassed expression, still holding the red mask in his hand. 

"Harry, I am really sorry," he began immediately, running exhausted through the protruding brown hair head.   
The Blonde crossed his arms in front of his chest, as Peter came to him with his head hanging. 

"What was going on? Did Spider-Man have to save the world once again? "It sounded more bitingly than Harry had intended, but the ruined evening had opened a painful wound in him.   
He knew Peter could not help it, he just wanted to help and help to give the innocent people a little security in this heartless city. That was quite noble, though Harry himself who would not have risked his life for ungrateful strangers ... But Peter had chosen this life, so Harry accepted his decision as well. 

It was far more difficult to accept the distance that Peter held on purpose. Perhaps because the business man in Harry did not feel comfortable in the position, had to wait for uncertainty for someone, and generally hated complications in general.   
"I'm sorry," Peter said again, helpless.   
"What did you do tonight?"  
"I wanted to come, honestly ..."He scrambled his hair desperately. "But the truth is that I stared at the wall for hours at home and could not get through to do it. And in my head, there ... I had all these pictures of what might happen to you as soon as any of my damned enemies learn of you."   
Harry rolled his eyes, for they already had that theme so Often discussed and moved each time in endless circles without finding a solution to the unsatisfying situation. 

"You're not anyone "Harry," Peter said. "Neither for me nor for the world. If one of Spider-Man's opponents finds my connection to the CEO of Oscorp ... Fuck, I'm just afraid for you."

He pulled a tormented grimace, which struck Harry as if he were stabbed, but when he touched the brown hair on his wrist, he was only tormented. 

"I know you just want to protect me," Harry murmured, but Peter knew that the blonde did not consider the danger as immediate. He would never be able to understand the panic fear in Peter, Harry's own fault, and that was the problem. The more vehement Harry pushed him, not to take him into Spider-Man's fight, the more the blonde suffered - and that was really the last thing Peter could endure. 

It was a devil's circle. For the sake of Harry's safety, he had to break through. 

Peter took all his courage together and put his hand out of the consoling grasp of the other man. He allowed himself to be able to see him for a moment in the enticing blue eyes and to let his eyes wander over the beloved countenance. 

His voice was trembling, but he forced himself to say, "Harry, maybe it would be better if I stayed away from you from now on. I do not want to go on like that. " 

Consternation - which Peter's heart broke - darkened the beautiful eyes, as Harry approached a reply in horror.   
"You can not seriously believe that's the solution, Peter!" He shouted as the shock shifted to anger, "Do you think you can just get away from it all? Also before me? " 

As Peter paused, the blonde clapped his slender hands in Peter's collar and growled challengingly: "Fine. Well, then look me in the eyes, and tell me that you do not me now, at this very moment, not want "Harry's lips approached his ear, stroked his corner of his mouth so that Peter's whole body strained with suppressed desire. "Come on, tell me you're me Not Would like to take it here and now. " 

Of course, this lie was impossible ... Too greedy, Peter had to glide straight over Harry, too conscious of his effect on Peter. And the sky, He appeared to Peter tonight more desirable than ever, with his somewhat disordered hair, the open full lips, the sensitive skin above the clavicle, which gave the shirt, which had been unbuttoned a little. 

But in the midst of this stimulus overflow, Peter also filtered something else: Harry had not been as much under control, as usual, was upset and tormented, his gaze was a bit too restless, the breath irregular. 

"You took coke," he tried quietly, though he could have cried out with helplessness. If Harry thoughtlessly fell into drug use, something had to go wrong ... 

"Right, about two hours ago, when I realised that you probably would not show up today," the blonde replied bitterly. 

The heart-rending reproach, which was in these words, brought Peter to the barrel of the barrel and forced him to make a final decision. He knew the last time Harry had been drunk out of frustration had been at the boarding school during his time. But then he had been alone, lonely, surrounded only by nervous-minded, easy-going board mates from a rich house ... That Harry now appears, through him, In a similar miserable situation, Peter regretted more than anything else. 

The constant ups and downs in her relationship, which he felt to Harry, clearly had no healthy influence on his souls' well-being ... And it was no justification that all of this was only because Peter tried to protect him desperately. 

"Harry, I'm not good for you," he said, struggling for the right words. "Look at what stupid things I am doing to you."   
He cleared his throat to distract himself from the impulse to do the most obvious thing: to take Harry aside to wait with him for the unpleasant after-effects of the cocaine in his circuit, and then he, It took him a tremendous effort to resist. 

"If I were not, you could be happy. I wish I could change, but I can not. And really, in order not to suffer further, you should forget me..." He could not believe that he was saying this, while everything in him really longed to overcome the physical and also the invisible distance between them. 

Do not be selfish, His voice of reason called him to order, Think of what the heartache is driving him ... Think about what would happen if something happened to him. 

And because the only thing he thought about the idea was the throat, he managed to get a few steps away from Harry. He had to turn his eyes away, for the nakedness of his face in the blonde's face made him wonder whether he was doing the right thing. 

"Peter..." Harry began shaking his head, rubbing his eyes, unmistakably, but Peter interrupted him for fear of thinking differently. He felt disgusting, now just running away, but ...   
"No, please, I've already done enough. I will not see you for a while, so ... do not wait, okay? "With a painful step after the other, he moved away from the familiar figure, which remained motionless on the other side of the room.   
Then, with tightly pressed lips, Peter turned around and swung out of the open window, into the cool, all-swallowing night. 

 

Completely leaving Harry was an impossible undertaking.   
Instead of concentrating on his college graduation and secondary job, Peter's everyday life was now dominated by doubting thoughts about the blondes - and during the night he could hardly devote himself to the criminal hunt as a Spider-Man. 

In the first few days, Harry tried to reach him by phone, but with concentrated willpower, Peter managed to ignore calls and messages. He'd thought he'd feel better if he kept Harry at a safe distance and out of Spider-Man's dangerous life, but it was hell. No matter how often he remembered doing the only clever thing, the pain in his chest was not easy to alleviate.   
After a week, he abandoned his intentions to stop him and confessed to himself a tiny consolation. At least from a distance, he observed how Harry Osborn's life was now without him. 

His heart beat went wild as he climbed the walls of Harry's penthouse after days of unrest and peered through the window front of the huge living room. It was still inhumanly early, and the sun was just rising, but to Peter's surprise, Harry was already awake. Leaning forward, leaning his head on his hands, he sat on the sofa and seemed to be breeding over his coffee cup. He did not move for a while, so Peter felt increasingly uncomfortable, then finally, he raised his head. While Harry reached for the cup, Peter could look at an unhealthy pale face, tired eyes, and dark eye-rings. With growing concern, he watched as the blonde shook himself almost gently, with fast trains, the coffee black and unsweetened to choke. Since when did he drink his coffee undiluted? 

When he rose and went to the next room, Peter followed him without hesitation from outside the wall. Full of conscience and impatience, he waited until Harry had showered and came out of the bathroom to dress. Was it just him or was the young man thinner in the last week? Peter was not sure if his exaggerated spidering played a trick on him. 

The fact that Harry chose one of the finest suits which meant that he had an important meeting today. Peter knew he did not have to put his nose in Harry's business since he himself had been at a distance, but he could not help it. It was embarrassing, but he could not even look away from the blonde's body as he slipped into the suit. 

Even when Harry finally left the house with black retro sunglasses and let his chauffeur go to his business appointment, Peter stuck to his heels inconspicuously - keeping up with the car did not really pose a problem when you are Spider-Man. 

Harry had always been able to hide emotions, but Peter knew him better than anyone else, so all the small changes like warning signs jumped in his face: while Harry's business partners were experiencing him cool and as sluggish as ever, his gestures seemed to Peter to be more mobile than usual , His eyes distracted and his attitude more kinked. As usual, he behaved professionally, but Peter was suddenly more aware of the young man's twenty-six years of business life.   
Harry was absolutely not alright. 

And Peter began to doubt again if he had not acted hastily if he could not reverse everything if he were now marching to Harry, abducted him from the meeting with a few nets, and begged for forgiveness on some roof in Manhattan... 

On the other hand, it was better for Harry's well-being in the long run if he suffered a few days of love, but he had a secure future as a successful and coveted man. 

Even though Peter did not want to think about it, he felt too uncomfortable at the thought that Harry would be at the side of another man - or a woman? - to see.   
Better than in danger, He exclaimed. 

So Peter held back with a heavy heart and told himself that Harry would be better off without him in a few weeks. 

Harry lay awake in the darkness of the living room.   
He was reluctant to enter the bedroom because every time he was threatened with memories of numerous unbridled nights with Peter. He had hoped to get some rest in the many other rooms, but the chaos in his head was not impressed by a mere change of location. During the day, he had still quite well under control, in any case, he did not think in his dream of letting himself be noticed in front of his employees and business partners ... But as soon as he was alone with his thoughts, he found himself in an endless loop from which it No escapes and robbed him of his sleep. 

Harry often imagined he would chase Peter to the devil if he dared to face him again - but if he was realistic, his reaction would probably be quite different in the case of an actual reunion. 

A glance at the display of the digital clock showed him that he would have to get up again in a few hours anyway. The sad truth was that, despite sleepy pills, he was happily lucky on the nights when he got more than three hours of sleep.   
All because of Peter. 

He was offended, yes. But to be honest, it hurt to see someone who had lost his childhood in the childhood and had only recently recovered from his life. 

Harry's new morning routine consisted of two aspirins, black coffee, and on more important appointments, which demanded his concentrated attention, more drastic stimulus. Harry did not allow himself to fail because of private problems at the professional level - he led a damned group, albeit involuntarily.   
Often Harry caught himself looking around New York's skyline, hoping to see something red-blue flashing, or looking for spider-mania in the newspapers. But Peter did not give him a single sign, so he had no choice but to divert himself, to be able to carry on somehow. And he did not find this by natural means, but most likely by non-binding faces in loud, uninhibited places, where pleasure was placed above risk. So he began to run around in the party scene of the High Society, where he was welcomed as an influential person. Harry was not really keen to land in the headlines because of alcohol or drug abuse, but drug addiction and gait were a hallmark in his industry. And since he found no sleep anyway, he could at the same time drive away time with shallow distraction and artificial feelings of happiness. Although he quickly realised that nothing in the world could replace Peter's silly laughter. Still, the alternative, like a teenager who had been heartbroken for the first time, was sitting apathetically in an empty apartment, Harry was under his dignity.

Today, too, was on the right path to catastrophe. During Harry's speech to his collaborators about a new project, he was only thinking about the dull headaches in his skull all the time. His voice, too, did not want to be right in the authoritarian tone, which was suboptimal, as the conviction was one of the most important weapons of a company executive.

Finally, when he finished his short speech, Harry was sure that he would have driven too often over his eyes and made nervous hand movements. 

His secretary served him a double espresso, which, in conjunction with further aspirin tablets, somehow manoeuvred through the day. Half-heartedly, Harry went into his work to avoid having time to think, and when he finally called one of his acquaintances - an up-and-coming career star of an IT company - and invited him to an afterparty, he said, relieved. 

The loud Techno music that received him, when he left his chauffeur at the Noble location at the appointed time, was not wholesome for throbbing in his temples, but experience had shown him that the right amount of spirits produced a lot could. As a VIP guest, he was promptly received by a welcome committee and led to the host table, which was joined by his own cocktail bar. Harry raised an eyebrow as he was greeted by those present in an abundant alcoholic mood. In addition to a few well-known faces, there were also some people in the round, who were said to have a less good reputation and in whose networks he definitely did not want to become entangled. 

On the polished surface of the table, Harry made the characteristic white powder strips, which had already been portioned as a precaution. 

Sighing, he sat down on the padded seat and took his first drink. It would be a long night. 

The intoxication blurred the boundaries between importance and irrelevance, wrapping his thoughts into a pleasant dusk that dampened his longing for Peter. However, after stimulants in the round had eliminated all inhibitions, he also had some effort to escape the nuances of his seat neighbours. The guy seemed to have shrunk from Harry's position as an Oscar chief, while Harry could not even remember his name. To Harry's defence, he had just been struggling with the slacking effect of snows and the associated mood, so he had little interest in his environment. Instead, Harry once more pondered on how Peter was probably going without him ... He tried to figure out his angry scolding when he saw Harry here at that moment. Imagine how Peter, was impulsive as ever, would simply drag him out of the club and perhaps push him to the nearest wall of Manhattan to kiss him. 

At some point, he no longer held it in the cigarette-smoking room, and, still somewhat dizzy, said good-bye to those present. As he went out, Harry called his driver to order him to the next main street, about seven minutes from here - the short walk would give Harry the opportunity to get a slightly clearer head again and prevent him from reaching the inside of the Waggon ruined. 

The fresh air helped against the oppressive feeling in his chest, so he did not force himself to hurry, but crossed the quarter slowly. In contrast to the many expensive nightclubs and VIP casinos, the last two crossroads on Harry's path no longer belonged to the upscale area. It was here that the part of New York began, which had to deal mainly with drug killing, as far as Harry knew, and normally he would not have driven around here alone. But his chauffeur was waiting for only two streets, and since the last few weeks, Harry had been quite ignorant of his own well-being, without paying much heed to venture.   
Why should something happen right now? , Sniffed his inner realist unimpressed. 

Perhaps it was due to the ending of the drug noise that Harry noticed the strangers only when they had already encircled him. 

There were five. And more than one of them seemed to be armed with a metal object.   
Oh fuck.   
"Hey, rich son," hissed a guy with a hooded jacket, blocking Harry's way as he played quietly up to his coat collar and tried to pass the group. "We've seen you come out of one of these snob stores, you're sure to carry a bit of excess coal with you ..."   
With some delay, the fear crept into Harry's limbs, but he did not respond to the man's unwelcome summons. Instead, he concentrated on groping for his jet black phone in his pocket.   
Before he had even unlocked the tactile lock, a blow hit him from behind, which instantly forced him to his knees. Basically, he tried to get up again, but suddenly, kicking on all sides, shit, The guys were on the top, and Harry's dainty body offered little resistance. Added to this was the lack of orientation by the drugs in his blood circulation ... 

Harry wanted to scream for help, but at this time there was no one close to whose attention he could have drawn. He was completely at his mercy alone and his assailants. Through the paralysing wall, for fear and the pain the blows inflicted on him, for a moment Peter's image appeared in his head as he heard another voice in the noise. 

Will they kill me because I've seen their faces? , He thought as he lay bent down on the cold pavement. crap, Peter will never forgive me, if so ... He tasted blood.   
And the last thing that appeared in his cloudy field of vision before he became unconscious was a red-blue flash. 

 

"Thank God. Fuck, Harry. Thank God. "   
Peter could have wailed with relief, as Harry finally - finally! - after hours of anxious waiting opened his eyes painfully. And although he knew that Harry's cracked lip had a pain and his skull was miserably booming, Peter could not help but bend over the injured and push a painful kiss on his mouth. And another one. And a dozen more on cheek, eyebrow, forehead and nose. 

To hold back, the bottomless fear around Harry was still far too deep in Peter's bones. 

"Wow, okay," the blonde said hoarsely when Peter finally gave in. "Umm, hey."   
"Hey," Peter whispered back with a lump in his neck. "You know, twenty minutes longer, and I'd take you to the hospital. I'm so glad you're awake. " 

Harry frowned, apparently trying to reconstruct the events of the night and assemble all the puzzle pieces. 

"I thought I was dying of sorrow," said Peter, "or, well, I thought, you Would die. " 

"You saved me," Harry thought, obviously the master of his memory. "Before these street cleaners." He gently leant on his elbow and straightened himself up on the living couch to glance around. "And brought home." Peter nodded mutely. 

"How did you know I was in danger?" It was clear to him how agitated he was about the dramatic events of the night.   
"Very slowly, Harry," Peter interrupted. "You have to be careful. How do you feel?" 

"A little pissed," Harry snorted as he stretched out his limbs and examined a couple of joints. "But nothing seems to be broken."   
"You had a pig's luck. Besides a bunch of blue bruises in all sorts of places, scrapes and a huge bump at the back of my head - I've cooled them with ice, but it's unavoidable - you did not take any damage. "

"You moved me and examined me?" Harry replied, surprised, and only now seemed to notice that he, in his morning coat. "Okay, yes, you have." 

He cleared his throat and reached for the glass of water that Peter had prudently placed on the glass next to him. Harry grimaced as the cold glass touched the little space on his lip, but emptied it in a few strokes. Then he looked at Peter with honest gratitude in his blue eyes and simply said, "Thank you, Peter."   
"No, you do not have to thank." Peter swallowed. "I guess I'm to blame that you've just landed in this situation." 

"I will not deny that," Harry grunted. "But since you're also blamed for damning me, I'm even more interested in how Spider-Man could be so fast."

It was impressive how Harry could still make a healthy mistrust in the state. 

Peter gave up his gaze but chose the truth anyway. "Well, you could say I kept you in mind. Especially since you've drifted so intensely to parties. "He decided to forfeit for the time being, to reproach Harry for the extensive drug consumption but added to subdued:" And maybe I wanted to check out whether someone else is coming to you. " 

"You were jealous," Harry said dryly. "And have stained me."   
Peter was driving uncomfortably through the hair. If Harry knew how many restless worried nights had given him Harry's wandering through the night scene ... How often he had painfully watched the blonde suckle with insomnia and throw one pill after another ... 

"Okay, yes ..." Peter admitted. "I know I did pretty much everything wrong. I thought I could protect you by keeping away from you - just to find out I was going to take you that way, not at all Protection. " 

And that he had needed so long to understand that would have cost Harry life. 

The last few weeks, when he had merely watched Harry silently as he was seized by the separation, as he neglected himself, seemed to him so wasted. 

Yes, it was true, Harry was in danger because he was able to get the target of Spider-Man's enemies, but it also had its advantages of having a superhero right at his side. What would be a loser if Peter were to save strangers night after night, but the people who were important to him could not save them from disaster? 

"Not even in front of these miserable little criminals. Oh man, I was really so close to killing the guys ... But I could not waste any time with them because I did not know how bad it was around you. So I just messed it up and informed the police. "   
He still felt a great deal of anger when he thought about the hack-eaters of these criminals ... But he forced himself to breathe deeply and focus on the present. 

Nervously, Peter was chewing on his lower lip before he finally dared to pronounce his next suggestion aloud. "So, umm, could we forget that during the last three weeks I've been like the biggest idiot on earth and agree that I'll accompany you from now on?" Harry laughed incredulously. His eyes wandered into the distance as he seemed to think about an answer. "You know Peter," he said, resigned, "I've never asked you to pull up with me or anything ... Just, it would be nice, at least regularly to spend time with you without me at any time To have to take care that you take leave. " 

From his sceptical point of view, it was concluded that he had not bought his words from Peter. So he grabbed Harry's slender fingers, forced the blonde to look him in the eye, and repeated with conviction: "This time I'm staying."   
"You're staying?" Harry's doubts seemed to be wavering. It greatly relieved Peter that his confidence in him had not yet been completely lost. 

"I remain."   
"No more cat-and-mouse game?"   
Peter grinned obliquely, teasing, "Unless it's you." 

The method of wrapping Harry with his typical Peter Parker charm seemed to be suggesting. The blonde chuckled, then he pushed a hand into Peter's neck and whispered, "Do you know what would turn me on? To interrupt this extremely profitable conversation at this point, and now, after three damned weeks, to go with you to my bedroom. "He raised an eyebrow provocatively. "And that is certainly not due to the stirrings of the brain." 

Peters self-control had to be really lousy that he does not prefer to talk about the blonde to rest - but Harry was really good to enforce his will, and his little-entrained state detracted from his seduction a bit. Therefore, it ended up actually with the fact that Peter lifted the blonde and wore between fiery kisses in the huge bed. Peter tried as gently and carefully as possible convert jump with Harry, but the mere sight of the white hips on his and the heat they kindled there was crumbling his reticence. 

In all the silent nights he had missed Harry's muffled moans, his goose bumps under Peter's fingertips, his tongue - and also the heat that divided their two bodies if they just lay under the covers only to each other. Even now, Peter focused on the comfort that gave him Harry's presence as he slowly strolled through the dark blonde hair. He kissed one of the bluish bruises on Harry's edge. Peter would ensure that something like this never happened again, even if he had Harry for protecting from themselves. 

"Hey, no more crappy drugs, all right?" He murmured.   
"If you do not put me," Harry quipped, then suddenly seemed to invade something and he ran his compassionate laughing with a hand over his face. "Ohh, shit, I think, my chauffeur is still waiting for me ..." Peter enjoyed it, as the bedroom was filled with her knowing laughter, and because the moment was so carefree, he made a decision. "Harry," he said in a theatrically solemn undertone. "Let us go together."


End file.
